Purple Socks
by Fading Flourite
Summary: Arthur didn't like Alfred's new purple socks. "Didn't"...


_For Alfred 'kolkolkol' Jones_

Purple Socks

"Alfred… What the-… What the hell?" Arthur stuttered as the American wiggled his feet in the older blonde's face.

"Showin' off my purple socks! Ya like?" Alfred explained with a shifty grin plastered on his youthful face. He was seated upside down on the couch, beside England, with purple sock clad feet wiggling in the Brit's face.

England settled his cup of tea down on the table and shoved the younger blonde's feet away with a force strong enough for Alfred to lose his balance and tumble over onto his side, blue eyes staring into green with a playful glint. "No. Now keep your feet out of my face and allow me to enjoy a moment of peace while I read the tabloids and drink my tea." He muttered indignantly as Alfred stuck out his bottom lip in a mock pout.

"Aww! Come on England! Don't you like 'em?" The American whined loudly, "They're really warm, ya know." With a loud thud, he slammed his foot onto the coffee table causing England's tea cup to rattle dangerously. Arthur reached for his cup at that moment; afraid it would spill over as Alfred suddenly sprang up and shouted. "They glow in the dark too!"

America ran towards the nearest switch and flipped it, turning out the lights. Arthur tilted his head to the side as he watched America's feet glow bright, neon-sign, purple. As Arthur continued to stare at the radioactive looking feet, they backed up towards the wall and the click of the switch sounded as darkness retreated and light filled the room once more.

"They also work as a universal remote on my feet!" The eccentric young man demonstrated that by wiggling his big toe which in turn switched on the plasma screen television mounted on the wall.

"It also has a G.P.S on it! I can also download music! And…" Alfred went on and on and Arthur was struck with how unnecessary all these features were for a pair of purple socks. American technology was certainly useless, he thought to himself. The young man was better off relying on other nations for new innovations.

"… And I can walk on walls!" Alfred shouted before the Brit could process what the hyperactive man had said. He planted one foot firmly against the wall, followed by the other. Arthur was flabbergasted! America was defying all known laws of physics. "B-Bloody… hell…" Was all he could stammer as he slowly rose from his seat.

Needless to say, Arthur was interested now. "Whoa…"

Alfred gave a wide smirk before jumping off the wall and landing firmly on his two feet, but his expression quickly changed to one of embarrassment as he noticed how impressed England had become, his green eyes locked on the American's purple socks.

"Actually, to be honest, you can't really…"

Where could Arthur get himself a pair of those fantastic purple socks? He just had to have them, but he couldn't admit to Alfred that he was impressed or anything.

"…just a joke, you know."

He knew what he would do. He would get up early, slip the socks off of Alfred's feet while he slept and try them out.

"…regular purple socks."

Yes, that's what he would do. Oh, God, he never ceased to amaze himself sometimes, he thought with a chuckle.

"Heh, Alfred your socks are ridiculous, now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to my room now. I'm... erm… tired from the trip... uh... yeah. See you in the morning." The younger blonde gave a coy grin and an awkward chuckle. "'kay! See ya tomorrow." There was a nagging sensation in the back of Alfred's mind as he watched Arthur rush up the stairs to his guest room. Something told him the Englishman hadn't heard a word he had said.

"Oh well! If I keep 'em on while I sleep, then there's no way he'll get 'em!" And with that, he went upstairs and into his own room, staying up late and bothering people, who probably weren't awake, through texts and other technological means.

The sun's first rays had just begun to shine into Alfred's home and Arthur was up and about, sneaking this way and that as childish mischief shone in his green eyes. He reached the door of America's room and quietly shoved the door open. There he was, splayed out on the bed, sheets and long limbs everywhere, drool spilling from his open mouth, blonde hair tousled, and glasses askew.

It took the Brit's every ounce of focus to keep from giggling. He was oh so very sneaky! Soon he would slip those socks off of Alfred's feet and know their wonders. Then he would send them to his best scientists and have them duplicate a pair immediately. Oh, he had it all planned out so very carefully. Arthur would first show off the magnificent socks to France and take to the walls and ceilings when the frog would dare to chase him in a raging fit of jealousy. He could see it all now as he crept to the foot of Alfred's bed.

With a slow and stealthy motion, he slipped one sock off and set it on the ground, gasping sharply as Alfred suddenly turned over, swinging his naked foot right into England's face. Clutching his nose as he fell back, he was suddenly aware of the fact that he could've waken the slumbering American so he remained stock still as his heart pounded hard against his chest and sweat began to form at his forehead.

Relief washed over him as he heard Alfred's snoring. He couldn't stop now so he moved over, quickly, to the other side of the bed and slipped off the remaining purple sock before darting out of the room and down the stairs.

With a deep sigh, Arthur chuckled to himself with a haughty and triumphant expression, very much engrossed in himself. Soon all the wonders of these mystical socks would be his at last! He slipped them onto his feet and looked for his primary target.

Ah! There it was. His emerald eyes locked onto a wall a couple of feet away. He would test these socks out with a rocking flourish by running full speed at the coffee table, jumping onto said table, and pouncing onto the wall before running up it all the way up to the second floor.

Yes, it sounded so good an idea.

"Here I go."

Suddenly, a loud crash had Alfred sitting upright in his bed and in that instant, his hand was on his pistol beneath his pillow. He dashed out of his room and rushed down the stairs, skipping a set of steps as he leaped over the banister. He held his gun out, a single phrase running through his head like a mantra, "Shoot to kill."

The Armed American pointed his gun towards the mess of glass, wood, and man and shouted. "Freeze! Hands up where I can see 'e-…. England?"

For a moment, his heart stopped and he wondered if the intruder had taken down Arthur and ran off. With his pistol at the ready, he moved towards the older blonde, but it wasn't until a piece of glass had poked the underside of his foot and he jerked it away, did he realize that his feet were bare.

Realization dawned on him.

"Ugh… ow…"

Blue eyes curiously traced down the mess that was Arthur's body. His blonde hair glimmered with bits of glass and specks of blood, his thick brows were knit together in pain and his green eyes were shut. His cheeks were red, his hands were nicked with tiny cuts and his back was arched uncomfortably in the shattered mess of glass and wood. Arthur's knees were bent, and of course his feet were decked out in Alfred's favorite new purple socks.

"Aha!" The American exclaimed in an unusually calm tone as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the Brit with a smug expression.

"You bloody wanker! What are you staring at?" England shouted defensively as his cheeks began to rise in color, but Alfred's daunting look of superiority didn't last long as obnoxious laughter spilled from his big mouth.

"Oh GAWD! England! You're sucha DUMBASS!"

Arthur wasn't sure which was more upsetting; Alfred's initial, superior composure, his current outburst of laughter, or the fact that perhaps he had missed something here and now looked like an idiot. "What? What? Tell me! Why am I a dumbass?"

The American was now clutching at his sides, the corners of his eyes wet with tears. "You didn't hear a word I said yesterday, did you? BAHAHA! I lied about all those things! I got those socks in a colorful six pack for three bucks at Wal-Mart!"

Arthur's face turned off-the-scale red from embarrassment, but a sudden thought occurred to him.

"Hey! Then… How did yo-…"  
>"So! About this mess! You're cleaning it up, England!"<p>

"But, how did…"

"I'm goin' back to bed; ten a.m. is way too early for me."

"Hey, wait!"

"Call me when you're done! KTHNXBAI!"

He was gone before England had a chance to ask. A confused expression drew onto his face as he stared intently at a wall.

"How did he…. How did he climb that wall?..."


End file.
